


MewGulf No Touchy Competition

by EveHypo555



Category: Thai Actor RPF, เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Dating Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong | MewGulf Pen Faen Gun, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28958346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveHypo555/pseuds/EveHypo555
Summary: It's Mild's birthday and what he wants to know is who can go longer without touching, Mew or Gulf? Let the games begin!
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	MewGulf No Touchy Competition

Team Gulf

Gulf adjusts the GoPro strapped to his chest. It's tighter than he would like, but Mild insisted it should be this way. _Because Yai Nong is a walking disaster_ , was his exact wording. 

"Quit playing with it na," says Mew, slapping at his hand. 

Gulf recoils from the touch. Jokingly so. He points at his faen. "Watch yourself, Khun Phi, or you'll lose the second we start." 

His boyfriend smirks. "Maybe I'm just getting the last bit of touch out of my system before we start." 

Gulf feels his breath hitch. He closes the distance between them and leans in to whisper at Mew's ear. "I thought that's what we did last night?" He relishes the feeling of his senior shivering against him. 

"I thought that's what we did this morning?" Asks Mew. His hands come to rest at Gulf's hips, causing him to wince.

"Tender," he hisses. 

Mew's eyes go wide. "Shia, are you okay?" He pulls his hands back. 

Gulf smiles and takes a deep breath. The ache in his hips brings back memories of Mew's hands gripping him so tightly he called out a string of obscenities, all the while enjoying every moment of the pressure.

"Khrab. I like the soreness." He gives Mew that teasing look that he knows drives him crazy. 

"Why don't I just lose now and we can go to your condo and touch all we want?" 

Figures. Gulf is surprised that Mew agreed to this competition at all. "You promised Mild you would give it your best shot." 

Mew pouts and pokes at his tummy. "Then why is he captain of Team Gulf and not Team Mew?" 

"Because I wanted to win," says Mild, appearing behind him. He throws an arm around Mew's shoulder. "I love you, my boy, but we both know Nong will be the victor." 

"You just want to see me suffer, don't you?" 

"Yes." Mild boops him on the nose with his finger. "It's my birthday and I want to see how long Suppasit Jongcheveevat can go without touching his Bii." 

Mew makes a face. "And you just had to turn it into a competition?" 

Gulf laughs. "You wouldn't do it otherwise!" He shakes his head. "You're recording on the big cameras, too, right?" 

Mild points at Run and Boat setting up the tripods along the room. "You two don't notice anything when you're together, do you?" He beckons for them to follow him. "Let me give you the tour, gentlemen." 

He leads them out of the den of the Jongcheveevat house and into a nearby office. "My thanks to your mother for letting us use her study," he says to Mew with a Wai. "This is Team Gulf headquarters. We'll be watching you on these laptops and communicating with Yai Nong through this earpiece." He hands the wireless device to Gulf. 

Mew shakes his head. "How long have you been planning this?" 

Eye walks in with a walkie talkie. "Trust me, Phi, you don't want to know. P'Mild, here's your walkie so you can tell us the terms of your surrender." She places her arms in her hips. "Team Mew will definitely win with my coaching. Shall I show you the winner's headquarters?" 

They follow her to the next room over. "You'll notice we were smart enough to claim the kitchen, where there's easy access to snacks." She gestures to their set-up of laptops and bowls of chips. "P'Mild, can I offer you some refreshments?" 

Mild considers it. "Yeah, sure." He shrugs and helps himself. "Snacks for the birthday boy!" 

P'Aa walks into the room and smiles. "It's not even noon and you're eating junk?" He shakes his head at his faen. 

"Irts mur burfdur!" He says with a full mouth. 

Gulf laughs at the sight of everyone's confused faces. "He said _it's my birthday._ " He nods and smiles. "I speak Mouth Full Of Food fluently." 

Boat rushes into the kitchen. "Almost time, Captain!" 

Mild swallows and throws his hand in the air. "Let's get this show on the road!"

Team Mew

Mew fits his earpiece into place. "Run, does this have a mic?" He shouts. 

His captain jerks and removes his headphones. "Yes. The volume is turned up so you can whisper to us." 

"Sorry na," he says in a soft voice. 

"It's okay, Phi, I should have warned you." He walks over to check his equipment. "Okay, Khun Suppasit. Your GoPro is broadcasting live to our laptop, as are the cameras.” 

He looks over to watch Gulf getting his own equipment checked. He keeps playing with the earpiece. It's probably too big for his tiny ear. Mew can't help but chuckle. Gulf turns to him, as if he can sense he's watching. Maybe he can. He smiles, and Mew can feel his chest expanding, filling with love for his boyfriend. No matter how long they've been together, it still feels like the first day he fell in love. Gulf makes an exaggerated kissy face and they laugh at each other from across the room. Mild looks over and shakes his head. He says something to Gulf that makes him giggle. Probably something about how easily they will win the competition. Good. They're underestimating him. He can use that to his advantage. 

Aa calls everyone to attention. "Thank you all for taking part in this special competition for Nong Mild's birthday. I know we're all excited to see these two love birds struggle to not touch each other!" He pulls out a set of note cards. "I will be your MC for this event. Here are the rules for today's festivities!" 

MewGulf No Touchy Competition

Mew and Gulf must avoid touching each other for as long as possible. 

The losing team has to prepare a birthday dinner for Mild AND clean up afterwards (the birthday boy is excluded from punishment). 

Mew and Gulf will participate in a series of activities that will test their ability to avoid touching

No nudity to entice touch! However, up to 2 costume changes are allowed. Keep it tasteful.

Mew and Gulf may have unlimited bathroom breaks, but must not exceed ten minutes. No hiding in the bathroom to avoid the other person.

Tripping and catching the other person, or any other such accidental situations do not count as losing. Be safe! 

Mew and Gulf cannot use props or other items to touch each other in place of their own bodies.

Teams may negotiate terms of surrender to lighten their punishment.

Aa gestures to the groups of people in the room. "I will now present our teams."

Team Gulf

Team Captain Mild

Boat

Hiter

Kok

Team Mew

Team Captain Run

Eye

Kaownah

Tong 

"Captains, please begin your timers and shake hands. Teams, please proceed to your headquarters. The competition has begun!"

Mew watches as Run and Mild shake hands. The teams wave farewell to him and Gulf, leaving them alone in the den area of his house. Alone, and unable to touch each other for as long as they can stand it. He glances at his boyfriend, who grins at him. The little brat is going to enjoy this, isn't he? 

Aa's voice comes through a speaker. "Our first activity will be to make boba milk tea. Gentlemen, please proceed to the makeshift kitchen arena that we have prepared."

Team Gulf

Gulf opens the container of prepared boba. He grins at Mew. "You like balls, right?" 

"Can't hear you," he singsongs. 

"I'll give you extra." He scoops two servings into Mew's cup. 

"You like it creamy, don't you?" Mew smirks at him. 

"The creamier the better." 

"Is this really your plan?" Says Mild through the ear piece. " _You like balls?_ "

Gulf turns away and whispers, "I'm warming up, okay? How am I supposed to get him to touch me?"

"Not like that." 

Gulf hears someone grab the microphone. "Hey, it's Boat. How you feeling out there, Nong?"

"Not good."

"I see you followed your instincts and went with the dirty jokes."

"Now I owe Boat 100 baht!" Shouts Hiter in the background. 

Boat's laugh is loud over the mic. "Might I suggest acting cute with a little bit of a tease?"

"Be slutty!" Shouts Kok. 

"But a cute slutty!" Shouts Mild.

Cute but teasing? A little slutty? Gulf can do that. "Khrab." He nods and looks at his boyfriend. Mew is pouring everything into the shaker. He seems completely unphased by the competition so far. It’s still early, though, and he’s going to enjoy watching Mew struggle. 

Gulf takes a sip of the creamer, being sure to get plenty around his lips. He turns to his boyfriend with a sleepy look in his eyes and smacks his lips. “Mmmm...” 

Mew freezes. His eyes lock onto Gulf’s mouth, and for just a second, he starts to reach out to wipe it for him. He catches himself and glares at him instead. Gulf grins and licks at his top lip. “Did I make a mess?” He purposely misses most of the cream with his tongue. 

Mew gulps and clenches his fist. “There’s a napkin next to you.”

Gulf puckers his lips at him for an air kiss. He’s going to enjoy this competition. 

Team Mew

“Do it,” says Eye through the earpiece. 

Mew reaches for the first button of his shirt and undoes it. 

“Give it five minutes before you undo the next one.”

Team Gulf

Mild’s laugh comes through the mic. “Ooh, heart eyes. Good tactic.” 

Gulf feels his face heat up. He didn’t realize he was doing it again. Can he help the way he looks at his boyfriend? Obviously not.

Team Mew

Mew covers his face with his hand. He hasn’t done this in years. Does he even remember how to do it? He shakes his head and looks at Gulf. His boyfriend doesn’t seem bothered by their separation or their next activity. Figures. He sneaks a peak at Gulf’s hand. He misses holding it. He looks at his waist, and he misses the squish of his tummy. He misses just _touching_ him. But not badly enough to lose. They haven’t even finished the first hour of the competition. Mew shakes his head and stands on the little X on the floor marked with masking tape. 

“Ready, gentlemen?” Asks Aa. Mew and Gulf give a thumbs up to the cameras. 

Aa counts them in and claps his hands to the rhythm. Mild better remember this when it’s his birthday. He grimaces at Gulf and starts doing the Chicken dance. Flap flap flap jump, flap flap flap jump. The moves are coming back to him surprisingly well. He supposes once you’ve done it a couple hundred times as a college freshman, you never quite forget it. Meanwhile, Gulf… Gulf looks ridiculous. As always. 

Flap flap flap jump, flap flap flap jump. Gulf looks more like a goose than a chicken with his neck craned forward. Skewer jump, skewer jump. Arguably the best part of the dance, miming shoving a skewer up your ass. Gulf skewers and winks at him. Cheeky little brat. Shimmy shimmy shimmy. Gulf looks like a noodle. God, Mew wants to hug him so badly. His boyfriend looks like a giant doofus jumping around and being altogether too adorable for his own good. His dopey smile and dorky laugh as he chants those stupid words. He just wants to throw his arms around Gulf and kiss him stupid. Which is, of course, their plan. That’s why they chose this activity. Damnit, Mild.

“Last round!” says Aa. 

This time, Gulf pretends to wince in pain as he mimes skewering his ass. They laugh at each other, only about 90 centimeters apart. Now would normally be when he’d pull Gulf in for a hug, rub his arm or back, and kiss his cheek. But no. Because Mild. He looks into Gulf’s eyes and for a moment, he thinks he sees something flash in them. Something like longing. Does he miss him back yet?

Team Gulf

Talent. Show. Nobody said anything to Gulf about a talent show. Shia. Exactly what did Mild plan for him to do during his turn? He watches as Mew, who was _clearly_ prepped for this activity, picks up his guitar. This had to be Team Mew’s idea. No way would Mild have come up with this kind of torture. He has to sit here and watch his stupid, gorgeous boyfriend sing and play the guitar… and _not_ touch him afterwards? And while his damn shirt is unbuttoned halfway down? Definitely Team Mew’s idea. 

Mew starts playing. No. No, no, no, no… it’s their song. _Their_ song. Shia. It’s the first song Mew sang to him when they started dating. The song they danced to on their 6 month anniversary. The song Mew sang to him after that one big fight when he wanted to make up. And the song that Gulf wants to dance to at their wedding. Not that they’re at that point yet. Not that they’re anywhere remotely close to discussing that. If ever. It’s just a stray thought that occurs to him whenever he hears that song. 

But to use that song in this competition. Sneaky fucking bastard. It’s practically cheating. What’s worse is that they placed the masking tape X on the couch so that he's sitting so close to Mew as he looks at him with those captivating, mysterious eyes. So close that he could easily reach out and touch his cheek as he sings, run his hand through his hair. Why does his boyfriend have to be so handsome? So charming? Damnit, their trick is working. Mew’s voice goes deep for the low note, and something stirs in the pit of Gulf’s stomach. He closes his eyes to focus only on Mew’s voice, and not the tingling in his fingers from wanting to touch him. 

“Focus na,” says Mild. “You want us to distract you?”

What a shitty decision. Listen to Mew’s singing or survive this activity? In the end, he nods so Mild can see him. It’s his birthday, after all. He ought to give it his best shot. Besides, he knows a few ways he can get Mew to serenade him later. 

He hears shuffling through the earpiece, like the mic is being passed around. “Kok here to save your ass!” says his teammate. “P’Mild said to talk about random stuff. Okay, so did you know that a taurus is a mathematical shape that has exactly one hole in it? Like a doughnut is a taurus. But it can be any kind of shape as long as it has exactly one hole. So, a coffee mug is also a taurus, because even though there's the convex portion where the drink goes, it still only has one hole: the handle. Isn’t that cool?” 

Gulf shakes his head. What did he sign himself up for?

Team Mew

Mew should have been suspicious when Team Gulf called for a costume change. Judging by his boyfriend’s face, he's just as clueless about it as Mew is. He can only imagine what Mild has in store for him. The bathroom door opens and Gulf walks out wearing a football uniform. No GoPro. Short shorts. There goes any chance of survival. 

Gulf's arrogant smirk greets him as he sets his football on the ground. So, this is what his talent will be? What, is he going to kick the ball around? As sexy as his boyfriend is in shorts, Mew is fairly confident he can survive watching Gulf chase a ball around the room. 

Gulf's foot curves under the ball and scoops it into the air. Fairly impressive. He starts kicking it up and bouncing it on the tops of his feet. Cute. He bounces it on his knees. Okay, really cute. Mew watches with fascination as Gulf alternates bouncing the ball on various parts of his legs, kicking it between his feet, and throwing his leg over it in mid air. Okay, it's pretty hot. Gulf kicks it up and bounces it on his head. God, when did his boyfriend become so cool? He watches as Gulf continues to juggle the ball, watches his toned calves and supple thighs. Shia, some of the bruises and bite marks from last night are visible. Clearly his team didn't warn him ahead of time about the costumes. 

Eye giggles over the mic. "Was someone hungry last night?" 

"Don't start."

She laughs harder. "It's okay, Phi, I don't blame you. Wouldn't want you to get a vitamin U deficiency."

Mew shakes his head. "I liked it better when Run had the mic."

Gulf kicks the ball up high. He catches it on his chest and somehow- Mew is excellent at physics but even he doesn't know how- swings the ball around his neck so that it lands on his back between his shoulder blades. And damn it if it wasn't hot. He needs to touch his cheek and compliment him until those cute little ears turn red. He needs to lean in and whisper all the ways those shorts are driving him insane. He needs to fucking touch his boyfriend. 

Damnit, Mild. 

Team Gulf

Dance. Dance. Revolution. Shia. Gulf figured he earned some cool points with his football tricks, but this is a whole other kind of coordination that he has never mastered. Goodbye points. Mew, on the other hand, seems to have been made for such things. Not only is he hitting his steps, but the extra bastard has added arm movements. What a dork. Can he kiss him yet?

Oh, and the stupid costume change doesn't help at all. Neither of them are wearing their GoPros. Gulf sneaks another peek at his boyfriend. He's wearing Gulf's favorite tee shirt on him, the one that hugs his pecs and abs just right. The one with the short sleeves that end right where his biceps start. And _those_ joggers with the thin fabric. Fuck. Kaownah must have chosen this outfit. And this activity. 

Gulf stomps awkwardly, trying to keep up with the aggravating arrows on the TV screen. He and Mew are both laughing, and it's definitely at him. 

"For someone who's so talented with his feet, you'd think you'd be better at this." Mew pauses to smirk at him. 

Gulf sighs. "With football tricks, I can set my own pace." He turns and grins at his boyfriend. "You know I like it slower." 

Mew stumbles over his feet a little. That's more like it. 

Gulf stumbles, too. Not because he's been flirt attacked, but because he's bad at this stupid game. He just wants Mew to hug him and maybe tease him a little. He wants some soft kisses to his cheek to comfort him because he's such a sucky dancer. He wants to feel warm and squishy in Mew's arms. 

The music stops, and Mew's panting, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Fuuuuck. He just wants to pull his boyfriend into a corner and drag his nails across his chest. He wants to bite his lips and nibble on his neck. He wants to taste the sweat on his skin. 

"Valiant effort," says Hiter. "You been practicing?" 

"Ha ha, Phi."

"Gulf Kanawut, main dancer." 

Gulf shakes his head. He knows Hiter's messing with him as a distraction from his boyfriend's perfect body. But it's going to take a lot more than that, given the strain on that tee shirt fabric. 

"Boat here." He hears the mic being passed again. "Let's focus na on tonight's meal. No, not _that_ meal. Snap out of it, Nong! Anyway, Captain Mild here wants classic hot pot. Homemade soup, no packets. None of us are particularly good cooks, and I hear Run and Tong are quite handy around the kitchen. Let's try to make them lose, shall we?" 

Gulf nods. He needs Mew to have another costume change soon, though. This shirt is killing him. 

Team Mew

Staring contest. Mew's never able to keep his hands off Gulf during staring contests. Mild knows this all too well. Looks like Mew will just have to show them that they shouldn't underestimate him. They sit facing each other on the couch, mere centimeters between them. Gulf looks so lovely just sitting there, looking calmly at him. His cheeks are still pink with exertion from DDR. 

"Do you miss me?" Gulf asks. What a stupid question. 

Mew gives him a soft smile. "Do you really need to ask?"

"I want to hear." 

He chuckles. How did he end up with such a cute boyfriend? "Yes, I miss you. Do you miss me back?" 

Gulf shrugs. "Meh."

"You're evil."

"You like it."

"We can hear you," says Aa over the speaker. "Okay, here are the rules. The point of the staring contest is sustaining eye contact, so you can blink as many times as you need. But whoever looks away first loses the game."

Mew takes a deep breath. He's good at winning staring contests with Gulf. Too often his boyfriend will get shy and look away, and that's that. But Mew could win the staring contest and still lose the MewGulf No Touchy Competition. This is what he's afraid of. Because while Gulf struggles to sustain eye contact, there's no way in hell Mew can face those Bambi eyes for a prolonged period of time without touching his boyfriend. This game will be his undoing. 

“Gentlemen, let us begin.”

Mew looks into Gulf’s eyes. It hasn’t been too long since the last time they did a staring contest. Probably last week at an interview. He won, of course, followed by a hug. It’s so different now, knowing he can’t reach out and pull his lover closer. Knowing he can’t press his forehead against Gulf’s and breathe the same air as him. He never realized how much he could miss all the little touches, like patting his leg, holding his hand, touching his cheek or neck. Holding his arms or shoulders. Gulf’s eyes are so round and imploring. He can still hear him asking in that soft voice of his, “Do you miss me?” Yes, god yes. He misses Gulf’s skin. It’s so soft and smooth. Always warm to the touch, no matter how hard the aircon is blasting. How many nights does he toss the covers off because Gulf’s body heat turns their bed into an oven? He craves that warmth now as Gulf’s eyes call out to him. 

“Don’t lie na,” Mew teases him. “I know you miss me.”

Gulf smirks. “It hasn’t even been a whole day.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

His boyfriend quirks an eyebrow. “You think you’re that irresistible?” 

Mew laughs. He certainly hopes so. Maybe then he’ll win this competition and he can finally touch his faen. How has he been able to go this long? “Did you have any moments of weakness?” 

“Maybe.” Gulf shrugs. “Whose idea was it for you to sing the song?”

Ah, of course. Mew figured it would be that. “Mine,” he confesses. He sees something flicker in Gulf’s eyes, and he wonders what it means. It causes him to smile and inch closer. He almost reaches out to touch him. 

“Phi!” Run shouts in his ear. He scoots back to his masking tape X on the couch. That was too close. His instincts are getting the best of him. 

Gulf bites his lip in amusement. Ugh, how cruel. He should be the one to bite that lip. He almost whines. He almost looks down to focus on those lips, but luckily they’re far enough away that Mew can see his entire face for once. It’s always harder when they’re forehead to forehead. 

Gulf’s eyes are mischievous and sparkling. How badly he wants to caress his cheek. He can’t take it anymore. If he continues this, he’ll end up kissing the fuck out of his boyfriend. He looks away and closes his eyes. 

“Good call,” says Run. 

Team Gulf

Gulf pulls out a slip of paper from the box and reads the question. “If you could touch your faen right now, how would you do it?” He grins at the cameras. “Do you want the truth?” He hears groans from the speaker, from his ear piece, and from Mew’s ear piece. 

“Save us the kinky details, please,” says P’Aa. 

Gulf smiles and looks at his boyfriend. “I would give him a hug, krab.” He blushes when everyone makes embarrassing noises at him. 

Mew chuckles and reads his slip of paper. “Who do you think will win this competition?” He looks at Gulf and starts laughing. “I don’t know about Yai Nong, but I feel like I’ve already lost! This is harder than I thought it would be!” He reaches out, and it looks as if he’s going to touch Gulf’s leg. But he stops short, catching himself. 

“Definitely Mew,” says Gulf. He unfolds his next slip of paper. “If you lose, how will you get back at Mild? Hmm… I think having to eat my cooking would be punishment enough.” He nods and laughs, catching himself from grabbing Mew’s arm. 

His boyfriend clears his throat and reads his question. “What was your favorite part of this competition?” He looks pensive for a moment. Serene, almost. He smiles to himself. That thoughtful, handsome smile that Gulf loves so much. When he looks at him, the love in his eyes is overwhelming. “Singing our song to him. Even if we couldn’t touch after, it was nice to serenade him again. I might be thinking too far into the future, but sometimes I imagine us dancing to that song at our wedding.” 

Gulf doesn’t know what he’s doing. He does, and yet he doesn’t. The feeling in his chest is too strong, the surge of emotions too much. He closes the space between them and catches his boyfriend’s lips with his own. His hand strokes at Mew’s cheek, lips parting and colliding. The cries of victory and loss thunder in his ear piece, and he yanks it out and tosses it behind him. He’ll apologize to his team later. For now, he’s got his boyfriend’s arms around his waist, his fingers running through his hair, and all is right with the world again. 

He hears someone clapping their hands. “Four hours,” says P’Aa. “Not bad. Though I thought for sure P’Mew would lose.” 

Gulf barely detangles himself from his boyfriend. He feels himself being pulled into his lap. It feels good to be back in his embrace. The others enter the den, heads shaking, voices loud and boisterous. 

“Damnit, Gulf.”

“We were so close!”

“I didn’t think P’Mew would last this long.”

“We won!”

“But did we? Have you tasted Gulf’s cooking?”

Gulf feels Mew’s grip tighten around him. “I guess I’m irresistible after all,” he teases. He leans up for a soft peck on the lips. 

Gulf obliges, but pushes him back after a moment. “Dream on, I just wanted to eat dinner.” He laughs when everyone starts to contradict him. “Okay, okay. I couldn’t take it any longer na. I’m sorry, Team Gulf.” 

Kok crosses his arms. “That’s okay. You’re doing all the dishes, though.” 

Mild claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, I’m getting hungry! Remember- homemade soup only, no packets. I’ve taken the liberty of printing out some recipes from Pinterest.” 

“Alright, alright,” P’Aa throws his arm around Mild’s shoulder. “Whatever my birthday boy wants. But, uh, should we give the lovebirds some time to reunite?” 

“Wait, where did they go?” 

The last thing Gulf sees of their friends is Mild shrugging as he and Mew close the bathroom door behind them. 

The End. 


End file.
